My dear wife washed my notes away on Mother's Day today. Yes, I was in the garden planting tomatoes when she shyly appeared at the back door. She was holding a pack of papers. Not hearing what she was saying, I approached and saw small wet pieces of wet papers.“Did leave you papers in your pants?” she said.As if I received a smack on the face, I realize that my pocket book, where Ihas inscribed ideas that pop up in my mind, has just taken a back.“Did you look inside the pockets?” I asked.“Of course,” she said. “I am not sure how I missed them.

The small notebook had already lost its cover. All that was left were the inside white pages. Some had the light blues lines. The first five pages, where I had written some notes,” had been all washed out.

Sydney Poitier’s quote “ proximity does not mean causality” and “society does not have a change of heart”, which I read in his book The Measure of a Man, have disappeared. There was no trace of my writings, nothing at all. They disappeared into the oblivion as they were never been written. There was another note I had taken. However, I cannot remember it anymore.

A few minutes later, she came back with half of the cover. On it were three dates, those on which I sent letters and book flyers.